The Subtle Approach
by alienheartattack
Summary: Levi is really, really not good at having a crush. This fic takes place about 5 years after the current storyline.
1. Chapter 1

Mikasa generally enjoys being Levi's lieutenant and right hand, but the paperwork is intolerable. After each mission the two of them spend hours working side by side, heads down, listening to the nib-scratch of their writing and the occasional "Oi!" from Levi when her heavy lids slip closed.

Tonight, instead, he takes a piece of wadded-up scrap paper and throws it at her.

She jolts awake, halfheartedly swiping at the air long after the paper bounces off of her cheek and falls to the floor. "The hell?" Her voice is thick and slow with sleep.

"Wake up," he snaps. "You're not done."

Mikasa yawns, lifting her arms in the air and arching her back as she stretches in her rickety wooden chair. Levi averts his eyes. "I'm up," she insists, though the slow cadence of her words betrays her. She pulls the chair closer to the table in the mess hall, tonight's improvised office, and continues filling out the small stack of papers before her.

Levi turns back to his paperwork, trying to come up with a way to word his report in a way that conveys his contempt for the members of the Military Police caught blatantly stealing food from civilian stores without calling them stupid fucking assholes. He immerses himself in his work, silently congratulating himself when he comes up with what he finds to be an impressively witty but still professional turn of phrase, when he hears a soft snore to his left.

Levi finds himself smiling as he watches Mikasa's head loll forward, a sheet of black hair shining dully in the candlelight, obscuring her face. He pulls out another piece of paper, scribbles something on it in his small cramped handwriting, crushes it into a ball between his hands, and lobs it at her. It hits her squarely on the crown of her head, then falls to the table in front of her, next to her right hand.

When Mikasa opens her eyes and looks at him, he crosses his arms over his chest and furrows his brow. "Shit. How long was I out?" she asks.

Levi stares back at her coolly, his mouth drawn into an exasperated line. "Too long."

"Permission to go to bed, Captain?" she asks, blinking sleepily at him. "I really don't think I can stay awake any longer." Her last few words become indistinct as a deep yawn overtakes her. "Sorry."

"Permission granted," he replies after a moment, his voice soft and weary. She thinks it is because he is disappointed in her, hoped she would be able to stay awake half the night like he does. She may be his protege, but she refuses to become accustomed to his grueling hours. It is her last rebellion against him (as well as the last vestige of her vanity; she does not like the way she looks with heavy bags beneath her eyes).

Levi looks at the crumpled paper on the table, then at her face. Mikasa is not sure what he is trying to say to her and is too sleepy to try to discern it, so she simply bids him goodnight and trudges off to the room she shares with Sasha, her eyes half-closed as she stumbles upstairs.

After she leaves the room, Levi picks up the wadded papers from the table and floor, setting the pair of them before him. He unfolds the one that landed on the table, smoothing it out. Perhaps it was a bad idea to throw it at her while she was falling asleep, but in his heart of hearts he hoped that her soldier's instinct would kick in and she would be curious as to what Levi launched at her.

Then again, he is not sure what he would have done if Mikasa had discovered a note that reads, "You're really pretty when you sleep, even though you snore."


	2. Chapter 2

Before going to bed on December 30th, Mikasa hears the unmistakeable crinkle of paper as she starts to unwind her scarf from her neck. Her suspicions are soon confirmed when she unwraps a layer of wool from her throat and a tightly folded square of paper falls into her lap. With her scarf resting across her shoulders, she unfolds the paper to reveal a message scrawled in nearly unintelligible smudged pencil:

_I like you so much, more than I've ever liked anyone._

Mikasa stares at the missive for a few minutes, her dark eyes wide with alarm, her mind racing at the possibility that someone crept in her room and placed the note in her scarf or, worse still, somehow found a way to slip it in its crimson folds while she was wearing it. The handwriting looks familiar, but it could be anybody's: the straight lines and round curves are standard military penmanship, in which they've all been extensively drilled. At this level of blurriness, even Eren's reformed chicken-scratch could resemble her own neat script. She folds the note up and places it in the breast pocket of her jacket, then goes to sleep with her scarf beneath her pillow.

At breakfast on December 31st, Mikasa quietly interrogates Sasha about whether she saw anyone go near her scarf, or if anyone asked Sasha to pass a message to her. "I'll give you my roll if you tell me who left this note," she offers.

Sasha scoffs. "I'm not a dog, Mikasa. You can't just throw food at me in exchange for getting something you want."

"I have a packet of those toffees you like. I'll tell you where I've hidden it."

This, to Sasha, is a prize greater than gold: there have been whispers that Mikasa has secretly been hoarding candy around headquarters, but no one has ever confirmed the existence of her caches. The toffees would be nice, but the prize of gossip that she can relay to the squad is much sweeter than any candy. Still, she has nothing to give her comrade, so her face falls even as her mouth reluctantly waters at the thought of the way the bits of burnt sugar crunch between her teeth. "I don't know anything about a note, Mikasa. I would tell you if I did. I really don't know. I didn't see anyone come in the room and no one asked me to pass you anything."

Mikasa sighs, then nods. "I believe you, Sasha."

Sasha feels something poking at her knee; she looks down to see Mikasa pressing the cardboard packet of toffees against the thick twill of her pants. She smiles, then takes the packet and secrets it in the inside pocket of her jacket within a fraction of a second. "My guess would be Jean," she says after composing herself. She scoops up a spoonful of gruel, then lets it drip back in to her bowl. "He's always had a thing for you."

At lunch, Mikasa and Eren are eating together when Armin takes a seat next to her and says, "Jean wants to know why you've been glaring at him all day. He sounds kind of upset."

Mikasa sighs. "Someone left me a note, like a secret admirer note, sometime yesterday. I was trying to figure out who it was. Sasha said it might be Jean."

"I don't think it was him. The two of us were stuck fixing 3DMGs for most of yesterday," Armin replies.

Eren snorts, spears a sliver of meat with his fork. "When would he be able to get to your scarf, anyway?" Mikasa shrugs. "It can't be Jean. And it's not me and it's not Armin, so who else could it be? Connie?"

"It's not Connie." Mikasa shakes her head. "I don't have any proof, but I'm fairly certain Connie didn't write the note."

Armin sighs, then falls silent for a few moments. "Have you considered that Captain Levi could be the culprit?"

Mikasa does not answer; she is drowned out by Eren's raucous laughter.

Erwin tells the soldiers at dinner that they are free to celebrate the new year, and will not need to report until lunch the next day. He is greeted with applause, then whoops when he announces that he has been able to procure a little bit of sparkling wine for each squad. Levi refuses the proffered bottle for his squad, saying they need to stay sharp, but tells Jean and Sasha privately that he has found their poorly-hidden fireworks stash and that they may, with strict supervision, set up a show for the entire Survey Corps at midnight.

At 11:55, everything is ready to go and the squad is assembled behind Jean and Sasha — all save for Mikasa, who has taken her place on the rooftop of a nearby building, claiming it is a better vantage point than right behind the fireworks' launchpad.

"That's a good idea," Levi says perhaps a bit too loudly after Historia informs him where Mikasa has gone. "I think I'll join her." After he leaves, Armin nudges Eren and gestures toward the captain's retreating form with a toss of his blond hair. Eren rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Mind if I join you?" the captain asks as he lifts himself onto the roof from a nearby ladder.

Mikasa hesitates for a moment. "If you want," she says, patting the space next to her with one hand.

"All right," he replies, sitting next to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees her eyes widen for a split second, as though she did not expect him to accept her invitation. No matter; neither of them have any time to react as they hear the echo of voices counting down the last twenty seconds of the year. After the countdown ends and the assembled masses shout, "Happy New Year!" there are cheers from the soldiers on the ground, then the whistle and pop of fireworks as Jean and Sasha start lighting fuses.

"My parents told me it's a tradition to kiss at the new year. It's good luck," Mikasa shouts over the din.

Levi tries to keep his face impassive, fighting the urge to widen his eyes and open his mouth. "Oh," he answers, not quite meeting her gaze.

"I'm not superstitious," she blurts.

"That's a relief." And it is. Even the quick press of her lips to his would be enough to undo him. He does not think he'd be able to stop himself from tangling his fingers in her scarf, disgusting though it is, and pulling her close to him. He tilts his head up to look at the fireworks, trails of orange and gold exploding and blooming into fiery crimson bursts, crackling champagne-colored sparks, dandelion puffs in purples and greens.

Even as Levi has his eyes trained on the sky, he cannot help but notice that her hand is so close to his, mere inches away. If he adjusted his posture, put his hand closer to hers, he could stretch his hand out and touch her. From the way she keeps glancing at him and looking away, the corners of her mouth puckered in a grin she is mostly suppressing, he does not think she would mind. And so he arches his back and creeps his hand slowly, slowly towards hers…

"Captain Levi!" Eren says as his his boots hit the roof, making a noise somehow audible over the boom of the fireworks. Levi tries not to visibly stiffen as he draws his hand away from its advance toward Mikasa's, placing it next to his hip. "Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year," Levi replies robotically, then turns back to the fireworks, trying to distract the bubbling disappointment in his gut as Eren sits down next to him to watch the show and, within a minute, is joined by Historia, Connie, and Armin.

"Did you wish Mikasa a happy new year?" Eren leans over and asks the Captain.

Levi takes a deep breath, then nods at the young man. "Happy New Year," he says to Mikasa, turning to look at her profile for a moment before he speaks, watching her face light up in blues, greens, pinks as Sasha and Jean shoot off more fireworks. She is so terribly close, and yet so far away — especially with Eren sitting next to him, watching him like a seemingly oblivious hawk. (On the other hand, he cannot imagine Eren will be happy if or when he finds out how Levi feels about Mikasa, the remainder of his hero worship be damned.)

Mikasa seems to notice his eyes on her so she turns to him and gives him a smile that to him seems brighter than the fireworks, brighter than the sun even. Her reply to him is only four words — "Happy New Year, Captain" — but as she speaks there is something in her tone that makes him think that maybe, just maybe, he will have a happy new year if she remains by his side.


End file.
